


The Light Behind Your Eyes

by xSeshatx



Series: Peter Parker: Future Hearts [16]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aunt Natasha Romanov, Gen, Irondad, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Michelle Jones Needs a Hug, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Parent Pepper Potts, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Michelle Jones, Protective Pepper Potts, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22383232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xSeshatx/pseuds/xSeshatx
Summary: Peter is afraid of everything, but he isn't exactly afraid of dying.
Relationships: Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Peter Parker: Future Hearts [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/993498
Comments: 12
Kudos: 155
Collections: The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics





	The Light Behind Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> The Light Behind Your Eyes - My Chemical Romance

“It’s been _weeks_ , Peter. We’re going out.”

Natasha was stern. Nobody could say no to Natasha, and so they went out.

Ever since he was attacked on his way to school, Peter didn’t really go out that much. He went to school and he came home, but there was no Ned’s house, no meetups, no Spider-Man. It wasn’t like he was super miserable or anything. He wasn’t sitting at home, hiding in his room, and avoiding people. He wasn’t super happy or anything either. He wasn’t running around the Tower, laughing at everything and literally swinging from the ceiling. He was kind of just…living. Which wasn’t a bad thing. Actually, it was probably a very, very good thing. He hadn’t cried since he was sick. He hadn’t had a panic attack. He hadn’t said anything worrisome.

It was hard for Peter to accept that his feelings of ‘this is okay’ wasn’t bad. With the lack of bad moments, he felt he should be having a lot of great moments rather than just okay or good moments. White or black. The gray felt like he was taking steps backwards. It was kind of a downer. It was only a downer when he was alone, though. Any other time, he wouldn’t think about it or else he would be more of a downer.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked Natasha as they were riding the elevator down to the ground level. She barely gave him time to put on real clothes, not the clothes he had went to sleep in. It was Saturday, nearly a month since the accident, and the weather was cold. Snow covered the ground, which was annoying because it was April. April showers bring May flowers? That wasn’t a thing this year. It was snowing. Intensely. It was blizzarding. He was cold and he was in the heated building. The spider part of him also got very sleepy when he got super cold, so he was already yawning at two in the afternoon. No part of him wanted to leave the Tower. Weather aside, he also wasn’t ready to leave safety.

“Obviously we’re going M&M’s World. Keep up.”

“What am I, like, six?” he asked, though not maliciously. He’s been to the M&M store plenty times. Also, there was nothing ‘obvious’ about where they were going.

“Five.”

Natasha was funny. More people should recognize that.

“And we’re just gonna, you know, walk there?”

“Did you have another idea? We could sit in traffic for longer than the walk will take if your princess legs can’t make it that far.”

“Why do you always gotta come for me? I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

Natasha smirked a little at him. They had a good time together.

It must had been an extra cold day. He was drowsy. They were about halfway to the M&M store when Natasha looked over at him questioningly. “What?” Peter asked, almost defensively.

“I’m sorry. I forgot the cold isn’t great for you.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Has the cold been bothering you _all_ winter?”

“Not really. There’s usually a lot going on, so I don’t always notice it. Today was a lazy day.” With the constant ‘this sucks’ moments, there wasn’t time to simply exist in the present and realize that, yeah, it’s kind of cold, which meant that when there was less going on and more time to exist in the present, yeah, he realized it was kind of cold.

“The whole month seems to have been a collection of lazy days. What’s up with that?”

“I’m just taking a break.”

“From living?”

“From danger,” Peter said, shrugging his shoulders in a ‘what can I say?’ way. “I get kidnapped as Peter, have to see Skip again face-to-face, almost blown up, and then I almost get killed in a surprise attack on Spider-Man. It’s only April, but this year sucks.” 

“But you’re not living anymore. You go to school and you come home. There’s more to life than that. I haven’t seen Ned or MJ in a while. What’s going on with them?”

Their relationship was awkward now with Peter being the only person at fault. He was reverting back to his awkward ways. MJ and Ned were trying, but you need all persons involved to make an effort. “Nothing, really.”

“So, you’re only going to school and coming home, _and_ you’re not even talking with your friends?”

“I never said I’m not talking to them.”

“ _Are_ you talking to them?”

He sighed. He wasn’t anticipating the interrogation, but he probably should have. “Kind of.”

“What’s going on with that, Pete?” she asked. “At first, we were all happy with how you’ve seemed to be handling everything. Tony especially. You probably haven’t noticed a difference because he’s really trying to keep it natural, but he was pretty ecstatic after two weeks without you having a panic attack. Then, I don’t know, we started noticing that there wasn’t much of anything going on.”

Were they thinking he was stuck in a _month-long_ dissociation episode? If that was the case, he couldn’t blame them. “It isn’t like there isn’t anything going on,” he said. “There’s just been nothing big going on. I’m not, like, losing time or anything like that.” He shrugged. “I just needed a real break from most things, I guess, including socializing.”

“And training, and eating dinner as a group, and playing games.”

He hadn’t touched any of his game systems that entire time. Or Legos. Or board games. Or cards. There was a lot of Netflix watching, though. And Disney. Mostly Disney. People hadn’t questioned him about his wellbeing in a while. Maybe that’s why he was doing okay. Now that he was being questioned, he kind of wanted to cry.

Neither of them said anything else until they got to the M&M store, but Peter spoke up before they went inside. “I know you guys have plenty of reason to worry,” he said, “but, really, I just needed a break. Everything was just…too much. You know? I was scared. Still am, I guess. It’s been nice just kinda sitting at home, ignoring some of the things that scare me. It’s harder for things to happen to me when I’m surrounded by all of you. You guys even make it hard to think sad thoughts sometimes.”

Natasha smiled at him. A soft, emotion-filled smiled reserved for only Peter, but the smile was only for a moment before she looked at him seriously. “I pried,” she said. “I’m sorry for that. I know you get enough of people prying.” She grabbed his arm gently, stopping him from reaching for the door handle to get into the store. “But Pete? Ignoring the stuff that scares you is half the problem, isn’t it? It always comes back. It gets inside your head.”

Losing time. Blacking everything out. Not ready to feel his pain, so he feels nothing. It all started because of his repression, and it continued. There’s been so many pain-filled moments in his life that it became easier to pretend they didn’t exist rather than deal with them. He knew that was the problem; everyone knew that was the problem. Yet here he was, creating the same problem over again. A never-ending cycle of pain. Hearing it from his therapist was one thing. Even hearing it from Tony and Pepper was another. From Natasha, though? She wasn’t his therapist or his parent. Somehow, that made it mean more which made it hit harder. Now he really did want to cry.

“I don’t know how else to deal,” he said, shrugging off her hand and walking inside the store. He was done with that conversation.

Thankfully, she followed his lead. When she came in behind him, she didn’t try to continue talking about anything deep or serious. “You want to stock up on too much chocolate that would no doubt make a weaker person sick?” she asked.

“Our spiders must be talking to each other because you just read my mind.”

“Please never say that again. I almost cringed, and I don’t cringe.”

His phone was now sitting heavily in his pocket. In a perfect world, he wouldn’t need to text his friends an apology for being absent lately, but now he felt like he owed one to them. Now he was planning an apology day. Where could he take them out to dinner? What movie could they go see in theaters? MJ mentioned never going indoor skydiving, so maybe they could spend a few hours at iFly? Or they could go do an escape room? All of the above? Spending a whole day out of the safety of the Tower sounded terrifying and exhausting, but he did miss his best friends. Sure, he saw them in school, but it wasn’t the same. It could have been fine if he was still socializing in school. He kind of was, but mostly Ned and MJ talked, and Peter sat with them, occasionally adding something. He’d video them later and give them the beginnings of an apology.

Peter was going through the personalization process to get his own custom M&M’s when he saw something he was _not_ expecting to see. And he loved it. “Oh my god.”

“What is it?” Natasha asked from beside him. She was looking through the already made custom candy. It was NFL themed, which was a little late. Football season was over.

“Oh. My. God,” he repeated, trying not to outwardly freak out as much as he was internally freaking out.

“Pete?”

Now he made her worried, which wasn’t intentional. He turned to show her what he was looking at; Spider-Man clipart for the M&Ms. “I am losing my mind right now. Do I look as excited as I am? Because I’m really trying to contain it, but I think I’m vibrating right now.”

“Oh my god. It’s Spider-Man,” she said. She was sharing his excitement, so now he didn’t feel silly for being so jittery over his discovery. “We need as much as we can carry to bring back. They’re going to love it.”

“You don’t know how badly I want to scream right now. I can’t think enough to handle ordering it.”

Words would never be able to explain how badly he was freaking out. When was the last time he freaked out this badly for the best of reasons? But really, Spider-Man themed M&Ms? He hadn’t even looked at his suit in a month, yet this filled him up with so many emotions. He felt dizzy with his giddiness.

He was looking down at the designs with what must have been pride, and when he looked up, Natasha had her phone pointed at him, so he laughed and asked, “What?”

“Tony is going to love your reaction more than the design. Tell me I’m wrong.”

She definitely was not wrong. “I can’t,” he admitted. “He’s a sap.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, “but it’s the best way to be.”

“A sap?”

“When he loves, he makes sure you know it. I love it.”

“You’re a sap, too.”

“Sometimes,” he said, and he went to say more, but then he felt a small tingle in the back of his head like someone was watching him. He looked around, apprehensive already, but then he saw a child. It was a little boy, about eight or nine years old. “Hey, buddy!” Peter greeted excitedly, because there was no other way to talk to a child. He saw who looked to be his dad watching from only a couple feet behind him, so he didn’t feel like a creep for talking to him. “Can I help you with something?”

“Are you looking at the Spider-Man ones?”

“Have you seen them?” Peter asked. “Don’t they look cool?”

“I think they didn’t pick the right picture.”

“What picture would you have chosen?”

“The mask.”

The design they had for Spider-Man was his spider symbol. Peter looked down at it and studied it for a long moment before nodding. “I think you’re right. That would have been cooler. You got an eye for these things, dude.”

“Do you like Spider-Man?”

How do you answer that question? It was impossible to answer correctly. Objectively, Spider-Man was breaking the law. While he was breaking the law, he was stopping the bad guys, and the police seemed to be turning a blind eye when it came to him. At least now they were. At the beginning? Not so much. Subjectively, he _was_ Spider-Man, so his answer would either be cocky and narcissistic, or it would be self-deprecating. Ignoring the fact that he was Spider-Man, his answer could either promote vigilantism and working outside the law or speak negatively about a kid’s potential role model and hero. Decisions, decisions.

“How do _you_ feel about Spider-Man?” he asked instead of answering.

“He’s cool.”

He’s cool. Was that a genuine eight-year-old ‘I like him’ answer or was that a ‘he’s okay’ answer? “How cool is ‘cool’?”

“Cool enough to be an M&M.”

Point taken. “You’re right!” he said enthusiastically. “Not everybody can be an M&M. Have you ever made your own M&Ms before?” The kid shook his head. “Lucky for you, I have, so I know how it’s done. Let’s pick our favorites. What’s your name?”

“Colin.”

“I’m Peter. We can pick up to three colors. What are your favorite colors?”

“We need to put red and blue for Spider-Man.”

“Do you want a third, or do you want to just leave it at those two?”

“We can just leave it red and blue.”

“I have a hunch,” Peter said, “that you’re gonna pick the Spider-Man print. Am I right?”

Colin started showing some emotion because he got excited. “Yes, please!”

“Let’s do this.”

The two of them went through the line with Natasha going through behind them, getting her own order and letting Peter do his thing with Colin. They discussed superheroes after Colin asked him who his favorite was. After he said Iron Man, Colin agreed. “The fun thing about Iron Man is that he’s been around my entire life,” he said. “I remember when Spider-Man came around.”

A kid whose age was (probably) in single digits was reminiscing. He was not going to age well, and it made Peter laugh. “I remember, too,” he said. He heard Natasha stifle a laugh, which made him laugh again.

After Peter paid for the three candy bags of Spider-Man themed M&Ms, he handed all three of them to the kid, and Colin looked up at him with his head tilted. “All of them?” he asked.

“You’re the one who made them, buddy,” Peter said. “They’re yours.” The father of the boy tried to pay Peter for the M&Ms, but he refused, repeating to him that Colin was the one who made them. He held out his hand for the kid to fist-bump as the father was leading him out, and he did. “Nice chatting with you, dude. I love meeting people who love Iron Man.”

Natasha was also finished ordering their M&Ms by the time Colin and his dad were leaving, and she was smiling. “You’re good with kids.”

Anybody who didn’t at least try to be nice to kids weren’t great people in his opinion. Kids were too pure, and he didn’t want to contribute to ruining that. No matter how uncomfortable he was not being at home or how sad he was from his and Nat’s conversation only minutes before, children were innocent. They didn’t contribute to his anxiety or his sadness, so he threw on the happy face and talked excitedly with the child. Nobody else should do anything different. “I think I’m ready to be back in the Tower now,” he said rather than explaining what should be common knowledge. He was exhausted, and he knew Natasha wouldn’t argue. He knew if he had told her no earlier about going out, she’d listen, but he wasn’t going to take advantage of that before. He could tolerate leaving earlier. Now, though, he was tired. Not necessarily extremely depressed and ready to break down, though. There was sadness and there was excitedness, and it was cold, and he felt like that was long enough in the real world after not really existing in the real world for a month.

Natasha was understanding. She was good at that. She handed over the bags to Peter and said, “Me too. Let’s get going, yeah?”

Tony was pacing when they got back. He didn’t stop when Peter and Natasha got off the elevator, either. Natasha chuckled a little bit and kept walking, but Peter just stared at him for a moment. “You good, dad?” he asked after too many moments. Tony stopped pacing then and looked up, almost in shock. “Did Friday not tell you I was leaving? I’m sorry.”

“No, kid, it isn’t that,” Tony said, coming over to stand in front of Peter. “Nat told me you guys were leaving. I was just waiting for you to come back.”

Did the separation anxiety hit Tony as hard as it usually hit Peter? They’ve talked about it a lot in the past, but not recently because Peter was getting better with it. Getting out of the Tower? Yeah, that was a problem lately, but that was with good reason, and it wasn’t the attachment to Tony that got to him, it was the lack of safety. Was Tony having separation anxieties? Worries that Peter was going to get hurt? Maybe they’d have to talk about it.

“We went to M&Ms World,” he said rather than addressing Tony’s potential anxieties. That was a private talk for later. “You’re not going to believe what we saw.”

“You’re not going to believe the video I took of Peter not believing what he was seeing,” Natasha cut in.

Some of the worry drained from Tony’s face at the lighthearted conversation. Given Peter’s track record, Tony was most definitely waiting to see what trauma Peter was going to return with. “Do I want to see the video or hear the findings first?” Tony asked. Peter felt himself turn red, and Tony laughed. “ _That_ means I want to see the video first. Send it to Friday and let’s get this show on the road.”

There was eye rolling on the teenager’s part. Being put on the spot like that? Absolutely rude. Unfair and uncalled for. Disrespectful.

Watching Tony watch Peter’s excitement on the screen was probably Peter’s favorite activity of the day. Yeah, he was kind of embarrassed for how excited he was over the Spider-Man M&Ms, but Tony never failed to make him feel loved. Tony almost looked emotional over the video in the best kind of way which made Peter smile and lean into him. “You guys brought some home, right?”

“We couldn’t not bring any home,” Natasha said, holding the bags up for Tony to grab. “I didn’t record the best parts. Go ahead and ask me about what I didn’t record.”

“What didn’t you record?” Tony asked, already opening a package and examining them closely. By eating them. Naturally.

“First, he froze up completely. He kept repeating, ‘oh my god,’ and was actually shaking before he managed to show them to me. But the real treat was after the video ended.”

“I was kind of curious as to why Peter got serious all of a sudden and the video ended.”

“A kid was watching us,” Peter explained, “so we talked superheroes and made M&Ms.”

“Please tell me you’re his favorite. That would just be amazing.”

“Iron Man is actually, but he didn’t want Iron Man M&Ms.”

“He wanted Spider-Man ones,” Natasha added. “I think he was lying about Iron Man being his favorite.”

“He said that Iron Man has existed his entire life, but he remembers when I came around. So, Iron Man just feels like a way of life, but Spider-Man is something he remembers life without. It does kind of change the way you look at things. I knew Captain America forever, but I remember when you came around, and I remember seeing you face-to-face when I was little, and it definitely made you stand out.”

“Come again?”

“What?”

“When did we ever come face-to-face before I recruited you?”

Peter opened his mouth but couldn’t find words through his shock. Had it really never come up. “Really?”

“Really.” Tony was genuinely confused.

“I was at the Stark expo, like, I don’t know, seven years ago. One of those drones thought I was you because I was wearing an Iron Man mask, and I was an idiot.”

“‘Nice work, kid,’” Tony quoted, remembering exactly the moment Peter was referring to. “Pete, that was _you?_ ”

“I’ve always been reckless,” Peter laughed, but Tony wasn’t laughing. He was staring at him fearfully. “Wait, that was so long ago. It isn’t like I did that yesterday or anything. I was a stupid little kid going through a lot who wanted to be like you because, well, you’re you.”

“I think he’s broken,” Natasha commented. She didn’t seem so shocked by the revelation, but she was also incredibly talented at not looking shocked. There’s no way she could have known if he hadn’t told any of them. “You broke him, Pete.”

“Funny the way the world works, huh?” Peter asked.

“How am I getting stressed out by the decisions you made before I even knew you existed?” Tony asked, still looking shell-shocked. “You almost died.”

He didn’t say what his brain almost made him say, which was, ‘That happens a lot.’ That wouldn’t have helped anything at all. It would have made everything worse, actually. A lot worse. “But I didn’t, right? All it did was make me feel super cool for a while and cement the fact that you’re my favorite superhero.”

“And probably inspire you to follow through on you being a superhero after becoming part-Spider.”

Was Tony beating himself up now? Wait. “Dad. Listen. We didn’t know each other, and I wasn’t even close to being Spider-Man yet. You didn’t exactly influence my vigilantism.”

“I think his brain is finally rebooting.” Natasha’s commentary was mostly humorous, which Peter appreciated. “He looks like he’s processing the information.”

“Let’s just talk about my super cool M&Ms,” Peter said. “They look awesome.”

Tony put both of his hands over his face and took a deep breath, but it was exaggerated. He was coming out of the unexpected admission, so Peter let his own shoulders relax. “Okay. M&Ms. That’s a better topic of conversation. Let’s continue with M&Ms.”

Later on, Peter was sitting alone in the kitchen. He had one leg up on his chair and was scrolling through Instagram, looking at some of Ned’s recent posts. Every post was nerdy. Peter would have normally made an appearance somewhere on Ned’s posts, but because of his hiding away, Ned’s posts were Peter-free. It made him kind of sad. He really was being a bad friend to the best friends a person could have, but he wasn’t ready to facetime them to talk. He convinced himself that an apology would mean better in person, so on Monday he’d try to explain himself. He sighed, locked his phone, and let his forehead drop onto his knee.

“Is this a worrisome moment?” Tony asked. At some point, he appeared in the kitchen, but Peter had no idea when he got there. Had he just arrived or was he watching the self-hatred for a while?

“No worries,” Peter said without lifting his head.

Tony’s voice was a little lighter when he spoke next. “No worries. That sounds like a good plan to me.” He came over to the table and took a seat. “There still is something, though. What’s up?”

“I hadn’t really noticed how bad of a friend I’ve been being,” he admitted.

“Who said you’re being a bad friend?”

“I did.”

“What makes you think you’re being a bad friend?"

“When I was talking with Natasha earlier, it kind of hit me that I’m not really talking to them.”

“Or anyone, really, but go on.”

That wasn’t an attack on Peter, so he didn’t say anything about it. “It isn’t like I ignore them or anything, but things aren’t the way they were before, and it’s my fault.”

“There’s more than one person in any friendship,” Tony said, trying to defend Peter.

“I know, and that’s why I know it’s just my fault,” Peter argued. “They’re trying, and they aren’t even getting angry at me for my lack of trying. They’re not exhausting but being at school _is_. It makes it hard to have the energy to be a good friend. I mostly just sit there while they talk.”

“But that doesn’t make you a bad friend,” Tony said, and Peter finally lifted his head up to look at him. “Don’t give me that look.” The look he was talking about was, ‘you’re joking, right?’ “It doesn’t even make you an absent friend. A lack of energy isn’t a lack of effort. I know Ned and MJ understand.”

“Have I been worrying you guys?”

“We’re having honest time?” Tony asked, and then nodded to himself. It wasn’t really a change of conversation. The two topics were similar. “Okay, honest time. Overall, yeah, there’s been some worry. It’s been hard to tell if you’re really here with us or if you’ve turned into this introverted version of you. You haven’t been doing anything that’s exactly worrying; nothing specific, at least. You don’t leave home which sometimes gets to me, but I also know that life was mean to you for a little while there. I wouldn’t want to leave home, either. Selfishly, I like you staying in because I can do more here to make sure you’re safe and okay, but I know there’s more to life than that.”

“I’ve been here,” Peter said before deciding to elaborate. “I don’t think I’ve been dissociating or anything like that. It’s just…yeah, what you said, the introversion. I don’t know. Sometimes I can talk to you guys for half an hour and then get so _tired_ , like I drained my social battery for the week. School is even worse. Every day of school feels like an entire semester. I get drained so quickly lately.”

“Natasha pointed something out,” Tony said. “She was talking about the trip you two took when she mentioned the cold. Winter came late this season, and I know spiders sleep a lot in the cold. I mean, I know it was cold all winter, but this _annoying_ winter wind and heavier snow hasn’t been steady. Do you think that has to do with any of your exhaustion?”

“It’s possible, but honestly, I think it’s mostly because of how back-to-back every sucky thing has been. It’s like I’m either losing my mind or I’m too tired to.”

“You’re talking a lot more now than you have in a while. Are you not as drained as usual?”

“I’m more drained than I’ve been,” Peter said with a sigh, “but pushing everything aside makes things worse for me. Everybody tells me that, and I know it’s true, but it’s always easier at the time, but I don’t want to give in to the exhaustion and ignore what I’m feeling and thinking just to lose my mind later.”

“That…mostly made sense. I know what you’re saying, but you’re rambling. You’re right, kid. Dealing with things now rather than later is actually easier than the other way around.”

“I know.”

Tony seemed hesitant to ask the question he asked next. “How deep is the exhaustion running?”

What was he getting at? Why was his left hand twitching, one of his signature nervous ticks? “You’re trying to ask me something else, but I can’t figure out what.”

“Well, I’m…aware…of you feeling scared of…” The pauses Tony kept giving while he was talking was making Peter actively anxious. “…well…It’s come to Pep’s and I’s attention that, at least sometimes, you’re not exactly scared of dying. Is this exhaustion you seem to be stuck in related to that?”

Nothing about Tony’s question made sense to Peter. He had no clue where those words came from or why, but their conversation turned incredibly dark all of a sudden. “My exhaustion isn’t a depression or anything,” he said, almost dumbfounded. “I’m tired of being scared. Being scared all the time is exhausting. That’s all there is to it, dad. Really.”

“What are you scared of?”

What wasn’t he scared of? “Pretty much everything, I guess. I’m scared of getting attacked, either as me or in the suit, and I’m scared of something happening to you, or Pepper, or Hap, or anybody else here, and I’m scared that next time an explosion happens in Queens, I won’t be there to protect Ned, and I’m scared that somebody out there will put two and two together and realize that lame old Peter Parker is this cool, web-slinging superhero, and I’m scared of being scared because the thought of anxiety attacks actually gives me anxiety, and, I don’t know, I’m scared of most aspects of my life.” That honestly wasn’t as heavy as he thought it would be. It sounded pretty typical and reasonable now that he was ranting about his exhaustion out loud. When he thought anything similar to what he was saying, he was able to convince himself that he was crazy and blowing things out of proportion. Hearing everything, though, reminded him that the train wreck that was his life was genuinely a train wreck, and everyone was scared of train wrecks. At least, people who rode trains were scared of a train wreck.

“You tire yourself out by just being scared?” Tony asked, somehow looking surprised. Peter thought he had made that clear weeks ago. Months ago, even. A year ago? It felt like it should have been common knowledge.

“Pretty much. I know I shouldn’t be so scared of everything, especially not to the extent that I am, but I am. I’m trying my best. I’m keeping myself out of situations that will scare me as much as I can. I’m trying not to brood. I’m trying to distract my mind by watching cute movies and shows that I love. I know, objectively, that I’m doing it all wrong, but I’m trying.”

“Nobody thinks you’re not, Pete. We all know you’re trying, and you’re doing a great job. I guess I kind of worked myself up with my fear, too. With how bad things were, and how sad you seemed to be, I was concerned that your sadness was more than just sadness.”

Tony mentioned depression, so was he worried about that? Peter knew he was depressed. Peter’s therapist knew he was depressed. Peter knew that his therapist told Tony he was depressed (with permission, of course). Peter knew that Tony knew that Peter was depressed. That had long-since been established, though, so why was it coming up now? Tony, on the other hand, couldn’t get what Bucky had told him after Peter had been attacked out of his head; that Peter was scared by how he _wasn’t_ scared of dying.

It gave Tony and Pepper nightmares.

It was Sunday the next day, so Peter didn’t have to face his friends just yet. He had another day of overthinking before talking to his friends, a situation he knew would end just fine. When he finally emerged from his bedroom in search of breakfast, he saw Natasha sitting at the table, seemingly waiting for him. This weekend turned into a very Natasha-heavy weekend, which meant socializing, which meant exhaustion, but he was trying to not let it get to him because socializing with family shouldn’t count as socializing. “Hey, Nat. What’s up?”

“Can’t I visit my nephew without a reason why?”

“Do you all collectively refer to me as your nephew, or…?”

“Probably,” she said with a shrug. “Am I the first to call you it to your face?”

“I think so. I mean, I called myself Happy’s nephew and he didn’t deny is, but I think you’re the first to actually say it. Also, no, you can’t just visit me without a reason.”

“That’s hurtful.” She wasn’t hurt.

“Hanging out is one thing. You being on our floor by yourself is another. What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“You gotta stop thinking the worst,” Natasha said, her voice teasing. “I just wanted to check in on you from yesterday.”

“What about yesterday?”

“It looked like you got a little upset when we were talking,” she said, a little softer now. “I know you get enough of people pushing, prying, and trying to get you to talk.”

“No, it’s okay,” Peter said, taking a seat at the table with her. “It got me thinking about how I’ve been acting, and I see why you guys have worried. Plus, getting out of the Tower…wasn’t really the worst thing that’s happened to me. Sometimes a little tough love isn’t all that bad.”

Natasha laughed at that. “‘Tough love’?”

“You know, everybody kinda just…let me be. You said we’re going out and so we went out, and that wasn’t a bad thing to do.”

“So, what I’m hearing is a, ‘Thank you, Aunt Nat, for getting me out of the Tower and having a good couple of hours.’”

Why didn’t more people recognize how funny Natasha was? “Thank you, Aunt Nat, for getting me out of the Tower and having a good couple of hours.”

She got up from her chair and over to him, grabbing his head gently before kissing the top of it. “It’s nice seeing you really smile again, Pete. I know things are hard, but yesterday I saw a little bit of you again, and it made my week.”

He wanted to call her a sap, too. Make it a little funny because things felt serious, but he didn’t. Not all serious moments had to be bad.

It was the next day when things felt the bad kind of serious. He got to school and stood next to MJ. “Ned’s running late,” she explained without him asking. “He’ll be here after homeroom.” She knew this information which meant they were texting. He didn’t know this information because he rarely texted them anymore. He was a bad friend.

How does one go about being a good friend again? He felt too awkward, like he was intruding here. He was tired. “Why late?” he asked.

“He forgot to set his alarm. Typical Ned.”

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Ned to forget to set his alarm. It happened at least once a month. Since Ned wasn’t there, he couldn’t give an apology. He would have to wait until lunch so he could say it to them both at once, to their faces. It was probably better to be during lunch, anyways, because it gave him more time to try and explain himself. He hated how nervous he was. It wasn’t like Ned and MJ were going to suddenly turn on Peter. Things were going to be okay, but his stomach was turning.

Eating wasn’t even worth it come lunch time, which he knew was a bad decision. By the time he got home from school, he would be overly run down and just not feel okay because that’s what happened every time he skipped lunch, but whatever. His foot was tapping on the floor, his fingers were tapping on the table, and he was moving around in his seat more than was necessary, but he was anxious. It was a bad anxious that would definitely lead to an intense panic attack if he didn’t get in under control.

“Hey, guys?” he said, finally, as Ned and MJ were both eating.

“What’s up, dude?” Ned asked.

“I, uh, well.” His apology was going to be annoying and full of stutters. He couldn’t stop, though. He had to get through it. “I know I’ve been kinda, uh, kind of a bad friend, you know? I mean, I know you know, but you guys are good friends, so I know you’re not, like, mad at me or anything, but I still wanna apologize.”

“Pete,” MJ said, speaking as carefully as she could, “you don’t need to apologize.”

“But I _do_. You guys have been there for me, and you guys are my best friends, and you’re both amazing, and you don’t deserve an absent friend like I’ve been. I’ve just been _so tired_. I get so exhausted so quickly, and I’ve been _so scared_ , and I just…” He was hyperventilating a little bit. A lotta bit? Breathing was hard.

“Let’s step out of the cafeteria, okay?” MJ said, already standing up and elbowing Ned to do the same. “There’s a lot of people in here and that’s probably not helping.”

Except that suggestion came too late because he was already in the middle of a panic attack and couldn’t think straight. “And I’m so scared that something will happen to me and leave you two,” he said, standing up himself. “Something can happen, and that’s scary itself, but I know loss, and I don’t want you two to feel that loss, and it scares me. I’m _temporary_ , and it can happen at any moment. _I won’t make it_.”

MJ grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled him, leading him out of the cafeteria and into the hallway. Ned was hurrying behind them. “He’s gonna throw up,” he said. Peter almost always threw up during his bad panic attacks, so Ned wasn’t wrong.

The thing is, Peter wasn’t done talking. “Something will happen to me, and I need to know that you guys will be okay,” he was rambling. He got really off-track of his apology. “But I don’t know how I can know that you guys will be okay.” He didn’t even remember thinking these thoughts, yet now he couldn’t stop himself from rambling them.

Peter was getting _so damn tired_ of not being okay. He wanted it to all go away.

Arms wrapped around him and it was MJ. Of course it was MJ. She knew a hug would calm him down right then better than words which is why she hugged him rather than talk to him. He clung to her, and it felt right. Why did he let himself get so worked up? It was always a waste of time and energy. He didn’t need to give himself anymore reason to be exhausted, yet he did constantly. He let himself just feel the hug. Ground himself. He was still here. At that moment. That’s what matters.

“Better?” she asked him after a few long minutes.

“Sorry,” he said, stepping back. He was embarrassed. Very embarrassed. “I just…yeah.”

“How do you always manage to bring yourself to this point?” MJ asked sadly. “Pete, it does no good thinking about what _might_ happen. It does even less good convincing yourself that it _will_.”

“I’m so…temporary.”

“You used that word already,” Ned interjected, “and I don’t see how it’s accurate.”

“You’re not temporary,” MJ agreed. “Even if something were to happen to you…it doesn’t make you temporary. It means that we’ll hold you in our hearts, in our memories. You wouldn’t be forgotten.”

Ned’s eyes were full of tears. “She’s right, dude. If something happens, it isn’t like you’d only be here for a passing moment. That’s what temporary means. And if something happens, we’ll be okay, MJ, won’t be?”

“We’ll hurt, and we’d miss you, but we’d be okay. We’d make it through. Don’t hurt yourself with these thoughts, Peter. It doesn’t do any good.”

“My life is terrifying. I don’t know how they handle it.”

“They?”

Peter glanced around the hallway to make sure it was empty before answering. “The Avengers. Dad doesn’t even blink when it’s time for him to go out as Iron Man. Nobody does. It’s just life for them, and they’re fine with it, and I thought I was, too, but I’m not. I’m even scared as _me_.”

“Invite us over.”

MJ wasn’t asking.

“What?” Peter asked.

“You heard me.”

She was strange in the best ways. “Do you two want to come over after school today?”

“We’d love to, Pete. Thank you for asking.”

There was no way she dropped that conversation. They were gonna return to it later, safely in the Tower, but she was letting it go for now. “Go take a nap in the nurse’s office,” Ned suggested. “Tell her you aren’t feeling well. We’ll take good notes for you and bring them over later.”

“You guys really are the best,” Peter said. “I think I am gonna go lay down.” They walked him to the nurse’s office and MJ gave him another hug before he went in.

The nurse looked up at him when he came in. It was a big school and he didn’t make a habit out of going to the nurse (he never needed to), but the nurse knew who he was. Teachers and other staff members kept a close eye on the students who were adopted or in foster care or something else like that. “Mr. Parker. What can I do for you?” she asked kindly.

“Can I lay down here until the end of the day?” he asked, straight to the point. “I don’t really feel the greatest right now.”

“Come take a seat, I’ll check your temp.”

“I don’t think I have a fever.” He knew he didn’t have a fever. “I’m just feeling run down.”

He was lucky school nurses were very laid back most of the time and generally didn’t care. “Go ahead. Do you want me to call your guardian?”

It would be too weird to tell people to refer to Tony as his dad, so he never bothered when someone (mostly teachers) referred to Tony as his guardian. “No, it’s okay.” He also didn’t bother saying that he could just text Tony whenever because not many adults at a school like to acknowledge that cell phones existed.

Peter was only slightly annoyed when he heard the nurse call Tony in the other room. He had no doubt it was because the man who adopted Peter was Tony Stark and people were probably afraid of getting on his bad side, so she’d rather call him than have him find out his kid was in the nurse and nobody reached out despite the fact that nurses didn’t call home in high school. Nurses being in constant contact with parents stopped in elementary school. It also could have been an excuse to talk to _the_ Tony Stark, or perhaps it was something nurses had to do for kids not living with relatives.

“Is this Mr. Stark?” the nurse asked. “Hello, this is Brandy Hall, the nurse at Peter’s school. How are you today?” Small talk like that sometimes irked Peter. “I’m doing okay, thanks for asking. No, nothing is wrong really with Mr. Parker, but because of the special circumstances of his home life, I’m required by the principal to call with any updates. Peter came into the office about five minutes ago requesting to lay down for the rest of the day. He says he’s feeling run down, but he didn’t agree to getting his temperature checked. Because he’s never done this before, I believe that he is feeling sick, but I can’t send him home if I don’t know he has a fever. You’re free to pick him up if you feel you should, though you’re not required to.” She paused for a short while, probably as Tony responded, and Peter’s phone buzzed. He knew it was Tony.

 **Tony:** Everything okay?

 **Peter:** Nothing too worrisome I promise

“No, sir, he didn’t ask that I call you _or_ ask that I _don’t_ call you.” Another pause. “Yes, sir, he just asked if he could lay down for the rest of the day.”

 **Tony:** Want me to come get you?

 **Peter:** No its ok

 **Peter:** Ned nd MJ are taking good notes for me

 **Peter:** This isnt a thing u need to freak out about

 **Tony:** If you’re sure

“I’ll call you if anything happens,” the nurse promised. “Have a good day, Mr. Stark.”

 **Tony:** I’m picking you up after school instead of Happy

 **Peter:** Can MJ and Ned come over

 **Tony:** So you talked to them today?

 **Peter:** A little

 **Tony:** You talked to them, freaked out, and decided to invite them over so you can properly talk to them in a place you’re less likely to freak out in?

Peter smiled, a little sadly, at his phone. He was so predictable, and Tony really understood him.

 **Peter:** Mostly right

 **Peter:** I talked to them nd freaked out nd MJ told me to invite them over so we can talk more

 **Tony:** That sounds like MJ

 **Tony:** I like her

 **Tony:** Will you have the energy to go out to eat or should we get something super unhealthy delivered to the house?

 **Peter:** How about something only kind of unhealthy

 **Tony:** Even better

 **Tony:** How bad was it?

The panic attack? He was probably asking about the panic attack.

 **Peter:** They calmed me down

 **Tony:** MJ calmed you down

 **Peter:** Neds presence is calming too

 **Tony:** Peter.

 **Peter:** Ok yes MJ calmed me down

 **Peter:** It was kind of a bad one

 **Tony:** What about?

 **Peter:** I got super emo

Peter had to hold back a laugh at the response. It was just a picture of Tony with a raised eyebrow, but it was the funniest thing he had seen all day.

 **Peter:** omfg

 **Tony:** What do you mean about getting super emo?

 **Peter:** Idk

 **Peter:** I started talking bout things I didnt realize I was worried about

 **Tony:** Are you being vague because you don’t want to talk to me about it or because it’s a very sad topic

 **Peter:** Im temporary

 **Tony:** Very sad topic then

 **Tony:** We can talk about it more later when you’re not hiding away in the nurse’s office

 **Tony:** Are you sure this isn’t too worrisome?

 **Peter:** It isnt anymore

It was kind of sad how quickly Peter fell asleep once he put his phone down and closed his eyes. He couldn’t tell if it was the panic attack that put him to sleep or if it was him not sleeping properly. He was sleeping a lot, but it wasn’t good sleep. Sleeping hadn’t been plagued by nightmares lately, but he was never in a good, deep sleep. Now, though, in the nurse’s office at his school? He fell into a good sleep.

Peter’s phone buzzing woke him up. He felt around on his chest for where he had set his phone down and grabbed it, answering the call without looking to see who it was. He answered with a sleepy, “hello?”

“I’m a bad parent. I didn’t think you were asleep,” Tony said. “I’m sorry, Pete.”

“Dad? No, ‘s okay,” Peter said, debating on opening his eyes. If he opened his eyes, he’d lose the sleep, and if he kept his eyes shut, he’d be next to useless in this conversation that Tony started by calling him. “What’s up?”

“I let myself get worried when you stopped responding. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

“’m all good. What time is it?”

“Almost time to go home. I’m in the car.”

So that meant he should definitely wake up, so he sighed and opened his eyes, squinting against the bright light. “I guess that means nap time is over.” 

“I’m sorry, kid,” Tony said, sounding genuinely sorry. “I wish I could have let you sleep some extra minutes. I didn’t know.”

“Please don’t worry about it. You had reason to worry.”

“Did you not sleep well last night?”

A week or so ago, Peter had mentioned about the sleeping, explaining that he is sleeping okay most of the time, but he doesn’t sleep that deeply anymore. “I slept all night,” he answered. “I’ll run to my locker and get my stuff and see you when you get here.”

“Alright, Underoos. See you soon.”

Getting up was not something Peter wanted to do, but he managed to somehow end up on his feet. He saw the nurse sitting on the other side of the room at a desk. She was looking at him. “You call him dad?” she asked, not exactly judgmental, but there was something there. It also wasn’t any of her business.

“Yeah,” he answered shortly, heading towards the door.

“How are you enjoying life with him, Mr. Parker? Has he asked you to call him that?”

No part of him was in the mood for a stupid question like that. “No, he didn’t ask me to call him that, and I’m happy at home. May I be excused so I can go to my locker before the bell rings?”

“Sorry, Peter. I’m not trying to be nosey.”

“Have a good day,” he said as he left the nurse’s office. She was most definitely trying to be nosey. Many people who asked him about Tony were trying to be nosey.

He hadn’t even made it to his locker yet when the bell rang, so he was back on track for the schedule of the day. He dropped off the books he didn’t need before going to meet up with Ned so they can meet up with MJ on their way out. Like clockwork. “Today was a good day to take a nap,” Ned said once Peter made his way to him. “We did nothing important. Nothing interesting. I’m still bored and class is over. Also, you look like you had a good nap.”

“How can you tell?”

“You don’t look like you’ve fully processed the fact that you’re awake.”

MJ wrapped her arm through Peter’s unexpectedly. He turned to look at her and she only smirked. “Good morning, sunshine.”

“It’s that obvious?”

“Super obvious.”

Peter led the way to Tony’s car, and when he opened the passenger door after Ned and MJ got in the back, Tony smirked at him, too. “What’s up, Sleeping Beauty?”

“Is it _really_ that obvious?”

“Yes, Pete, it is. What’s up, you two? Haven’t seen you around in a bit. What do you feel like for dinner?”

“Anything is good, Mr. Stark,” Ned said. Sometimes he slipped up and called him Tony, but he mostly referred to him as Mr. Stark still. It was something Tony so desperately wanted to break Ned out of. “I’ve missed my second home. Have you built anymore Legos since the last time I came over that you’re just keeping a secret from me?”

“I can’t say that I have,” Peter admitted. “I _have_ rewatched all Scooby Doo movies and TV shows that I could find, though, and I think that counts for something.”

“It counts for everything,” MJ piped up.

The trio retreated to Peter’s room almost as soon as they arrived at the Tower. Ned threw himself down on top of the bed. “I’ve missed your bed, dude. The most comfortable bed in the entire world.” It had only been around a month, maybe a little bit more, since he had his friends over. It did feel like forever.

“Let’s get right to the scary conversation,” MJ said. “No use in putting it off, right?”

Peter liked putting things off. He always preferred putting things off. “I guess we should.” He took a seat on the bed and MJ knelt on the floor in front of him, grabbing his hands. Ned was also sitting up now, looking much more serious.

“We know that something can happen to you,” she said. “We know there’s a good chance that something might happen to you, that you might…die.” She looked physically pained to say that word. “You think that makes you temporary. We disagree.”

“Temporary means lasting for only a limited time. I am _living_ on limited time. Borrowed time. Stolen time.” He was getting worked up again, but not in the same severe way he did at school.

MJ laughed a little in a kind of hysterical way, where she was saddened and heartbroken and exasperated all at once. “We’re all here for a limited time, Peter. All of us. We can’t live forever. We’re born, we live, and then we die, every single one of us. You, me, Ned, Tony, our classmates, our teachers, old politicians, children playing on the street; none of us will live forever. None of us will come _close_.”

“We’re all temporary,” Ned said quietly. “That’s kind of the deal we’re given. The hand we’re dealt, and it’s scary, but it’s a fact and it’s something that’s existed before you became Spider-Man. Before any of the death, really. We’re here for a moment and then we’re gone. It could be for a hundred years if we’re lucky, or it could be at…” He paused, eyes watering before he blinked them away. Honestly, Peter was known as the emotional one, but Ned was just as bad. “Or it could be at sixteen. We don’t want it to be, but we know that’s something that could happen.”

“But,” MJ said, her voice strong where Ned’s was quiet and careful, “that’s true for anybody. Any of us. It’s sad. It’s scary. It’s depressing. But it is true, and it’s how it’s always been. The only thing that changed with you being Spider-Man is that that fear is more at the front of our minds rather than at the back where it should be.”

“I’m so scared of what will happen to everyone if I die,” Peter said, looking away from MJ (they were staring at each other intensely and it was becoming a little much for him). She let go of his hands and he awkwardly wrapped them around his elbows. “I know, that’s very narcissistic of me, but, I just…”

“You’ve been through that pain and you don’t want us to feel what you’ve felt like,” MJ finished for him. “We know that, and it’s understandable. Only slightly narcissistic, but with the best intentions.”

“And I’m so scared because that’s the only reason I’m scared of dying,” he continued. “I’m scared of how it’ll affect you two, and, well, and the Avengers. You’re all my family, and I’m not stupid; I know all the love I have for all of you is reciprocated, so I know if I die, you will all hurt, so that makes me scared of the, uh, inevitable.”

“There are more reasons to be scared of dying than hurting the rest of us, Pete,” Ned said, his voice even quieter than before. “This isn’t…okay. You know that, right?”

“I know it isn’t, but that’s just where I’m at right now, I guess.”

The reaction kind of surprised him. MJ’s reaction, specifically, because she stood up suddenly, eyes wider than he had ever seen them before, and she took a few steps backwards before bolting completely from the room. Peter called out after her, but Ned stopped him before he could follow. “She’s probably going to go sit in the bathroom for a few minutes, process, and then come back with the stone-cold face,” Ned said. MJ didn’t do too well with emotions when she was the one feeling them.

“There’s a bathroom _in my room_.”

“She’ll come back in a few minutes.” Suddenly Ned was the calm and collected one. “When did you start feeling like that?”

“I guess it’s been quietly there for a while, but, I don’t know, a couple months now. There was this little girl who was being attacked when I was out on patrol that kind of, I don’t know, triggered a really bad episode for me, and then the, uh, old friend I had who hurt me came back at the same time, and, I don’t know, that’s probably around the time I came to the conclusion that, well, that sometimes living is a lot more terrifying than dying.”

“Have you talked to anybody about it?”

“I’ve been trying to, and I’ve been avoiding having to, so, no, not really. I mean, everybody knows how exhausted and scared I am, but telling them, ‘hey, if it weren’t for you guys, I wouldn’t really mind dying,’ isn’t an easy sentence to say, and I know it comes across like I’m ready to, well, die, and it isn’t like that’s completely the case.”

“But it isn’t like it _isn’t_ the case, either?”

Peter laid back on his bed, almost dramatically if it wasn’t for the content of their conversation. “I’m not going to kill myself,” he said bluntly. “I wouldn’t do that.”

MJ didn’t leave the door, instead leaning against it on the other side. It felt like the tables had turned. Peter was inside the room talking calmly about his potential _suicidal ideologies_ without crying or panicking, yet MJ was on the edge of a panic attack because one of her two best friends (friends in general – she didn’t have any others) was…was he suicidal? He wasn’t talking about wanting to die, instead saying that he wasn’t afraid of it for any reason other than hurting those he loved. Was not being afraid of dying the same as wanting to die? They were just teenagers, not therapists or psychologists or psychiatrists or anybody in a position to have that sort of knowledge.

Something MJ wasn’t expecting was to see Pepper standing there, not close enough to the door to be considered eavesdropping but rather looking as if she was passing through at the same time that MJ came running out of the room. Pepper smiled sadly at her. “Come sit in the living room with me,” she said. “We’ll talk.” There was normally a reason to be apprehensive when it came to adults wanting to talk because there was a lot of condescending attitudes and insincere comments, but everybody had to love Pepper. She was about as understanding as anybody could be, so MJ followed behind quietly. They both took a seat without saying anything for a long while as Pepper no doubt let MJ get used to the environment.

What was with the sad smile? Did Pepper know the conversation they were having in there? Did she know what was said? Was she aware of Peter’s thoughts? Was she said because she knew of the struggles of Peter? Of course she knew, but was that the reason for the sad look?

“Did something happen between you three?” Pepper asked after a short while of sitting there quietly.

So, Pepper was unaware? Now MJ was faced with the moral dilemma of keeping Peter’s business private and sharing sensitive information with Pepper. It wasn’t that hard of a decision for MJ. Not really. “Peter said something that worried me, and I needed to compose myself before continuing the conversation,” she said. Was she beating around the bush? It kind of felt like she was beating around the bush even though MJ hated beating around the bush. “He was talking to us at school today and had a…he kind of freaked out, saying how he’s temporary, but school isn’t the right place to have that intense of a conversation. He was just telling me and Ned how…” Now she was hesitating. And crying? She was crying. “I’m sorry, Ms. Potts.”

“The only thing you should be sorry for is calling me ‘Ms. Potts,’” Pepper said, looking around for a box of tissues only to not find any. “Tears are healthy. I know you’re the type of girl who tries to avoid feeling in front of people as much as you can, but this is okay.”

Rip of the Band-Aid. “He told me and Ned that the only reason he’s scared of dying is he’s scared of hurting any of us, and I don’t know if I’m reading too much into his phrasing or if there’s reason to worry.”

The expression on Pepper’s face didn’t change. All she did was close her eyes for the briefest of moments and take a deep breath before opening her eyes and continuing as normal, which suggested to MJ that the news wasn’t surprising. “As far as I know and as far as I can tell, he isn’t actively wanting to.” MJ knew the rest of that statement was ‘actively wanting to die.’ “He’s been very afraid lately, for good reason. I don’t think he wants anything bad to happen to himself, but rather, he’s accepted that something bad might happen to him.”

“You don’t think this is him being…suicidal?”

“When we were first made aware of these issues, we were very concerned. That isn’t to say we’re not still concerned because we are very, very concerned, but I don’t think he’s going to do anything with a bad intent. That brings us a little peace. I am very grateful you told me. You heard something that made you worry, with good reason, and instead of keeping a secret for a friend, you came forward. That’s one of the best things you could do for a friend, and I don’t have the words to thank you enough.”

It was hard to deal with the praise, especially considering the circumstances. She wiped her eyes, pulling herself together. “Peter was always the strong one. I knew that before we were friends. I’ve known him for a long time before we started talking, and I didn’t really have friends before, so I saw a lot. When his uncle died, it was kind of hard to tell. He didn’t really change. I remember overhearing him and Ned at lunch talking about it, and all Peter seemed to be worked up about was how his aunt was handling it. He needed to be strong for _her_ , and that’s the first time I heard it mentioned that someone died, and this was about a month later.

“Before that, when people started picking on him, he was annoyed by it, but he never looked like it got to him, even when I knew it did. When he became Spider-Man, before I knew that was him, I knew something changed with him. He was a little jumpier, a little more suspicious, a little more guarded, but his smile got all the more brighter. It was hard to tell if Peter was getting happy or if he was getting sad. The smile said happy, and the way he talked to people said happy, and the way his confidence grew just a little said happy, but I couldn’t buy it, not even then. But, he was strong.

“When I became friends with him and Ned, I knew Peter was the strong one. Ned’s emotional and gets his feelings hurt quickly and he is the definition of ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve.’ I still don’t like them seeing me feel anything, and that’s not exactly the strongest thing about me, but Peter was different. Peter picked himself up, Peter picked Ned up, Peter picked me up. Peter picked some of our classmates up if he could. He does his best to make strangers smile when given the chance. He’s not social. He’s not extroverted. He keeps to himself because he’d rather keep to himself than have thirty friends, but him having few friends doesn’t stop him from being friendly and picking people up.

“Before May died, I could tell there were some things getting to Peter, but it wasn’t obvious. Nobody else seemed to notice. He was still the strong one. May died, and he cried, and he mourned, and he cried some more, but he was _still_ the strong one. And I’ve been watching for a year now as he started losing that strength. It isn’t like he’s not strong anymore. He still is, but now he doesn’t think that he is, and I think that’s when the fear started hitting him. He had panic attacks, and he had break downs, and he cried a lot, but he knew he’d be okay. Now he doesn’t think he’ll be okay, and he can’t pick himself up.

“Peter has been through a lot, more than I would wish on my worst enemy, and there’s nothing I can say to help him. I know that. I watched my best friend turn into this terrified person that he’s not, and I’ve never been in any of the situations he’s been in, so it isn’t like I can relate to him and I know what to say and what to do. I know when I need to hug him, and I know when I need to talk to him, and I know I want to do anything I can to help him and be there for him as much as possible. Him and Ned; they’re my best friends. I don’t feel like I’m doing enough to help him.”

That was a monologue. That was the most monologuey monologue to ever monologue. She got off track a few times, but she got to her point in the end.

“MJ, what I’m going to say is very important, okay? It is not your job to get Peter back to how he was before. It isn’t Ned’s job, either. You’re his friends. The only thing you should focus on doing is being the best friends you could be for each other. You shouldn’t put all your effort into helping him. You’re a teenager. You need time for you. The more time you spend trying to pull him out of his pain, the more pain you’ll feel for yourself. You’re doing more than enough by sitting here in his home to be there for him, but you’re not his therapist. You’re not his doctor. This isn’t me saying this because I think you’re overstepping, because I don’t. You love Peter and I love that, but you need to save something for yourself. You give too much of yourself away trying to help him, what will be left?

“All I ask of you, Michelle, is that you be a good friend, and you be you. I don’t want to see you drain yourself out trying to give Peter new life.”

It was late when Tony personally drove Ned and MJ home, and everybody was exhausted. Things weren’t too heavy in the car, but it wasn’t lighthearted, either. It was, instead, just quiet. Peter was curled up in the front seat, too comfortable in the heat of the car with heavy eyes. Ned and MJ were in the backseat, both drained from the conversations they both had throughout the evening. Ned had his head against the window with his eyes barely opened, and MJ was wrapped around herself very similarly to how Peter was as she blinked tiredly. Tony, at first, tried getting conversations going, but after realizing how tired the teenagers were, decided to let the only thing breaking the silence in the car be the music.

The silence did break once it was just Tony and Peter in the car. Peter had gotten out and hugged both MJ and Ned as they got out the car, but there was no verbal goodbye said from any of them, which was strange to Tony because even though everybody was tired, they still said bye to Tony when they got out of the car. “Did everything go okay?” he asked Peter almost as soon as they were alone.

“It was okay,” Peter said, laying his seat back. “I made MJ cry and Ned tried to be the calm one. It was swell.”

“Somehow you’re saying words that sound like sarcasm but don’t feel like sarcasm.”

“It was awful, but it was okay.”

“Those are conflicting terms.”

“I made MJ cry.”

“So you’ve mentioned. Why was she crying?”

“I think she thinks I’m gonna kill myself.”

If Tony wasn’t one of the best drivers (in his own personal opinion), he probably would have lost control of the car over that statement. Plus, Peter said it so nonchalantly. What? His kid was most definitely the reason for the grey. Even the grey that Tony had before ever meeting Peter had to be because of Peter. “Well, let’s talk about that statement right there. Does she have reason to worry?”

“Not really, but I guess I don’t say things the right way.”

Peter told Tony pretty much what their entire conversation consisted of, including the phrasing he used and a more detailed explanation of what he meant. None of it was really news to Tony but hearing it from Peter’s mouth was something different than hearing it from Bucky. After the attack Peter endured that almost killed him, when he broke down to Bucky about not being afraid to die, Tony was scared. Hearing it again, this time from Peter, was scary, too.

“It’s why I won’t drive,” Peter concluded. He had a car and his license, but he didn’t drive. He would refuse to. He had driven before, occasionally driving to hang out with Ned and MJ. For the most part, though, he didn’t drive, not even with Tony in the car. “I’m scared of…well, freezing up. If something is about to happen while I’m in the car, I’m scared I’ll just, kind of, let it, so I’d rather not drive.”

“What should our concern level be at? Honestly? Because this isn’t something I should take your word for, given how sensitive it is, but I’m going to trust whatever you tell me. How concerned should we be?”

“There’s really no reason to be concerned.”

“Okay.” Tony said it with a straight face, staring ahead, speaking as if that was the end of that, but the worry didn’t go away. The worry grew. He knew he said that he would trust Peter’s words, and he meant it when he said it, but within those ten seconds of him saying it and Peter answering, his thoughts changed a little bit. Now, he wasn’t positive he could trust Peter’s words. He wanted to, but he never thought he’d have to worry about Peter having any of those types of thoughts. Peter can smile and laugh too brightly and Tony could see when Peter was happy. It was a bit of a rough time lately, sure, but there was happiness because Peter was a happy person. When he was sad, he was sad. He was hurting. He was in pain. But when he was happy, there was so much happy. A person with that much happy should be absolutely terrified of dying.

So why wasn’t Peter?


End file.
